The Five Days of Schwarz
by Hikaru Morinaga
Summary: Five: "And a Partridge in a Pear Tree". Turns out neither Schuldig nor Crawford had to worry about the other's gift after all. CrawfordxSchuldig, NagixTot, FarfxSally. For Nuraya. Complete!
1. Five Golden Rings

**The Five Days of Schwarz**

**Part One**

**Author's Notes:** So I was throwing around some ideas for Christmas Schwarz fic on my LJ and Nuraya said she wanted to see the fic I was planning. Shortly after reading her response, I wrote this fic, all five "days", in one sitting. They'll be posted on the days leading up to Christmas because I feel like it.

So yeah this is all Nuraya's fault because she encouraged me to write it in the first place. Because I am convinced there is never enough Crawford/Schuldig.

Setting is post-Gluhen, everyone has their Kapitel looks.

* * *

><p>It's snowing, big wet flakes going splat on cars, on pavement, on children's tongues. The people out in this weather are all bundled up, hats and scarves and mittens in a multitude of colours and designs are being worn. Shops all across Berlin have their doors open, hoping to entice passers-by to stop in and browse their wares. Schuldig, in particular, is window shopping, Crawford his unfortunate companion, though Crawford can't say he doesn't <em>mind<em>. They stop in front of one particular department store where a jacket display in a street-side window catches the red head's eye.

"That coat would look _really_ nice on me..."

Schuldig stops, his eyes glued to the deep green coat draped over a rather stylish looking mannequin. Crawford looks too, analyzing it the way he does everything else.  
>"I just bought you a new coat," he states matter-of-factly.<br>Schuldig pouts and points to the card at the foot of the mannequin, noting the designer and the materials. "But it's _silk_. 'One hundred percent authentic Italian silk'."  
>"So is the other coat I bought you when we were in France."<br>Schuldig's gaze moves from the coat to Crawford. "That was silk _lined_. There's a difference."  
>"And what do you need a silk coat for?" Crawford asks, a look of amusement in his eyes.<br>"You forgot about Nagi's wedding in February, didn't you?"  
>Crawford sighs, but does not look angry or even mildly annoyed. "I already <em>bought you clothes<em>_ for the wedding_."  
>"If you enjoyed sleeping on the futon in the living room so much, why didn't you say so?" Schuldig's voice is light, nonchalant, but his eyes are narrowed dangerously. He shrugs and moves on, hands in the pockets of the forest green jacket Crawford had bought him ages ago.<p>

He feels a light touch on his elbow, and Crawford gestures inside the department store.  
>"And while I'm here," purrs Schuldig as the greeter inside gives them a strange look, "I'll try to find you something nice. Like a silk tie."<br>_Or we could find where the fitting rooms are located and I could do some amazing things with your current tie...__  
><em>The greeter inquires in his finest German if they need anything, and Schuldig answers, "That coat in the window display over there... And something nice for my boyfriend, please."  
><em>Boyfriend?<em> Crawford quirks an eyebrow as the man runs off to do as Schuldig requests.  
><em>Would you rather I'd've said we were a married couple?<em>Schuldig gives Crawford a meaningful look.

In the end, Crawford pays for Schuldig's impulse purchase, and Schuldig walks out of there with Crawford's secret Christmas gift stashed safely inside his trouser pocket. The look on his face tells Crawford that Schuldig is plotting, and since Crawford lacks the talent of telepathy, he has no idea exactly _what_ is being plotted. The look on Schuldig's face tells him, however, that he's up to no good.

Then again, when was Schuldig _ever_ up to any good?


	2. Four Calling Birds

**The Five Days of Schwarz**

**Part Two**

"Why are we at a jewelry store?" Schuldig eyes all the shiny and expensive trinkets inside, a low whistle escaping from his mouth as he spots diamond rings worth several thousand Euro. "Are we playing the part of lovers again?" Schuldig reaches to wrap an arm around Crawford's, but the American moves away.  
>"I'm here for Nagi."<br>Schuldig practically chokes. Crawford smirks.  
>"He asked me to pick up the wedding rings he ordered the last time he came to visit." Crawford makes his way to the counter. "Don't worry; I'm not here for any ulterior motives."<br>Schuldig scoffs. "Well good. For a second there, I thought you took the 'old married couple' metaphor a little too far."

_Don't drape your coat, your holster shows.__  
><em>Schuldig looks down and sees that indeed, his gun holster holding his beautiful Jericho pistol is showing. He doesn't care, however, and makes no move to hide it.  
>"I have a license for this," Schuldig says, gesturing to the firearm hanging from his belt. <em>Don't even think about calling the cops,<em> he adds as a Suggestion, and the clerk behind the counter finally stops staring.  
>Crawford speaks in rapid, all-business German to the clerk, halting only to add German inflection to the name <em>Naoe Nagi<em>, and though Schuldig is pretending to not listen to anything he's saying, instead looking like he's gazing at the beautiful watches behind plate glass, he can't help but listen anyway. Though Crawford prefers to speak English when they're alone, since it's what he's most comfortable speaking in, his German hasn't wavered one bit, and Schuldig can't help but be just a little turned on.

After all, the only time Crawford speaks German to him is when he's riding him so hard Crawford can barely breathe.

-x-

"What's in the bag?"  
>Schuldig stows the opaque plastic bag inside an inside pocket of his jacket. "Shit for myself, as usual."<br>Crawford looks at him suspiciously, but says nothing. "You're purposely evading my precognition."  
>Schuldig chuckles as he scans the streets for the car park they left the Mercedes in. "Now why would I want to do that?" He shivers, and feels the warmth of his jacket leave him.<br>"Don't freeze to death," Crawford says, holding Schuldig's jacket open so he can pull it on properly, as they walk towards the car park. "I told you to dress warmer."  
>"Since when do I ever listen to you?" Schuldig teases, but allows Crawford to put the jacket on him.<p>

It sounds like Crawford's endured this argument many times before. "Since you are obligated to do so."  
>"In case you missed the memo—" Schuldig adjusts the jacket so he can button it up properly, and the <em>beep beep<em> of their car indicates the car is unlocked. "—Schwarz is over with."  
>"Then why are you still here?"<br>Against the passenger side door, Schuldig turns and looks Crawford straight in the face.  
>"Because you're the only family I have left." Regretting the words the minute they leave his mouth, Schuldig pulls the door open and slips gracefully inside, slamming the door after him.<br>_You've grown soft.__  
><em>_Shut up and get in the car so I can spend more of your money.__  
><em>Crawford chuckles and walks around to the right side of the car, pulls open the door just enough so he can slip inside—damn the asshole who parked so close to his precious car—and closes it with enough force to engage the lock.

Crawford starts the car, hears the clutch catch and is about to switch gears when Schuldig's hand covers his on the gear shift.  
>"Schuldig—"<br>He forgets how fast Schuldig can climb over the console, even with those long legs of his, and Schuldig nearly knocks the breath from him with the force of his kiss.


	3. Three French Hens

**The Five Days of Schwarz**

**PART THREE**

The doorbell rings, and Schuldig, clad in lounge pants and little else, is the first to answer. Without even looking through the window or the peephole, he swings the door wide open.  
>"S-Schuldig!"<br>The Japanese pronounciation of his name makes Schuldig inwardly cringe, but since it's Nagi, he'll forgive him.  
>"What, you've forgotten what I look like?" Schuldig mock pouts. "I'm wounded."<br>The girl next to Nagi, who is a few inches taller than him, Schuldig notes, looks between the two men before whispering something in Japanese.  
>"Would it kill you to put some clothing on?" Nagi's all flushed and Schuldig can't help but chuckle.<br>"We usually don't get people ringing the doorbell at, oh, _half five in the morning_." He gestures inside. "Come in before I freeze to death standing here."

The place looks the same as it did the last time he was here, Nagi notices. The door even squeals the same when it's closing. The living room has the addition of a Christmas tree tucked away in the corner with the lights still lit, and a cigarette is still smoldering in the ash tray on the coffee table. Nagi's companion wrinkles her nose at the smell.  
>"Where's Crawford?"<br>"Bra—" Schuldig pauses briefly, catching himself. "_Crawford_ is indisposed." _You woke us up, Nagichen. Did I mention that?__  
><em>Nagi frowns at the old nickname. "I was hoping to introduce you to—"  
>"Tot." Schuldig flashes the blue headed young woman a grin. "<em>Omoidase<em>."  
>"Her name is <em>Nanami<em>," corrects Nagi.  
>"Whatever." Schuldig stretches. "I'll go get Crawford for you. No doubt that's who you're anxious to see anyway." He turns to leave, arms linked behind his head.<br>"Yo, Crawford!"

Nagi didn't know you could draw out 'r's for so long, but Schuldig, of course, manages. The noise sends a shiver up his spine.

-x-

Schuldig turns the corner and throws Crawford's bedroom door open, where it hits the adjacent wall and probably dents the plaster. He doesn't care, naturally. He also doesn't care that Crawford has jolted from his bed at the noise, which Schuldig thinks sounds like a gunshot, nor is he surprised when Crawford, who is naked from the waist up and sans glasses, also has a gun pulled. Schuldig's known Crawford sleeps with one under his pillow since he can remember.  
>"Guten Morgen," Schuldig says with a smirk. Crawford lowers the gun and rubs his eyes.<br>"Schuldig, it's five—"  
>"Tell that to Nagi and Tot."<br>Crawford stares blankly at Schuldig, like he doesn't know who either of those people are.  
>"Nagi und Tot," Schuldig repeats, the German slipping in due to Schuldig's sleep deprived state. "You know...Prodigy and the girl with the deadly umbrella." <em>How much did you drink last night?<em>

_None, thank you_, Crawford replies, and throws the sheets aside; Schuldig clucks his tongue in disappointment when he sees Crawford is wearing boxer shorts. Not that he can't make short work of them…  
>"Close the door."<br>Schuldig kicks it closed and, for good measure, locks it. _Just in case_, he says telepathically when Crawford gives him a questioning look. _Just in case I don't like how those boxers fit on you._  
>"Why are they here so early?" He's pulling his trousers on.<br>Schuldig shrugs. "Dunno. Did you wrap the gifts for Farfarello?"  
>Crawford squints at himself in the mirror as he attempts to button his shirt.<p>

"He prefers to be called 'Jei' now."

"Whatever. Answer my question."  
>"I left that to you."<br>Schuldig crosses the room and wraps his arms around Crawford's waist.  
>"You shouldn't leave that shit to me," he purrs in Crawford's ear, batting the precognitive's hands away as he redoes the buttons Crawford has a problem seeing. "You know I'll forget."<br>"Which is why I wrapped them after you went to sleep."

Schuldig rests his head on Crawford's shoulder. "You sneaky bastard." He lightly bites Crawford's ear lobe.  
>Crawford smirks, chuckles slightly. "That's what you love about me, isn't it?"<br>"Please. You know all I like is the sex."  
>"Is that why you're helping me button my shirt?"<br>Schuldig pulls away, runs a hand through his hair. "I don't want you looking disheveled. What would _Nagi_ think?"  
>Crawford turns, grabs Schuldig's shoulder. "He would think I had too much to drink." He kisses Schuldig. "What would I do without you?"<br>Schuldig pulls away again, moves towards the bedside table where Crawford's spectacles lay. He hands them to Crawford.  
>"The same shit you always do."<p>

-x-

"What do you want for Christmas? Crawford wants to know."  
>Nagi shrugs. "I can always use a new laptop."<br>Schuldig snorts as he reclines back on the sofa, cigarette in between his lips.  
>"Guess Takatori doesn't pay <em>that<em> handsomely."  
>Nagi's mouth presses into a straight line. "Unlike you, I've been planning a wedding, and that requires quite a bit of money."<br>"I don't have anyone to marry, and even if I did, marriage is not for someone like myself. I can't stick with the same person for all of eternity."  
>"Is that why you and Crawford-san have lived together for eight years now?" Tot asks innocently. Nagi stifles a laugh, and Schuldig nearly swallows his cigarette.<br>"Where _is_ Crawford, anyway?" Nagi asks after sipping at some tea, now lukewarm from his neglecting it.  
>Schuldig shrugs. "Probably out to our financial advisor advising him on what to do with our money." He puffs on his cigarette, arms cradling his head on the arm rest. "I don't know why he bothers—what's the point in paying this guy exorbitant amounts of money so he can tell us what to do with our money, when Crawford tells <em>him<em>what to do anyway?"

Tot places her tea back down the saucer, straightens out the skirt of her dress, and looks at the floor.  
>"I've been told accountants are control freaks when it comes to their own money."<br>_Accountants?_ Schuldig questioned Nagi.  
><em>You mean that's not what Crawford does now?<em>_  
><em>_Nagichen... Crawford and I are still bodyguards.__  
><em>_So where did I get—_

The door slams, and there is Crawford, seemingly out of breath, with a briefcase in his hand.  
>"Getting too old to use the stairs, ja?"<br>Crawford retreats into his room without a word to anyone. Nagi looks to Schuldig; Tot's eyes trail after Crawford.  
>Schuldig shrugs. "Means the stocks aren't looking too good. He probably had to sell at a loss or something." He fidgets, conflicted over whether to 'entertain' the guests as a good host does, or to go after Crawford and make sure he's not putting a gun in his mouth.<br>Schuldig drops his cigarette into the ash tray and, like a cat, stalks off in search of Crawford.

-x-

"Don't bother knocking," comes a voice from the other side of the door, right as Schuldig lifts his knuckles to knock.  
>"Is everything all right?" Schuldig opens the door.<br>"Unless you want to spoil your Christmas present, I suggest you leave."  
>Schuldig stands in the doorway still, contemplating the threat still hanging in the air. Crawford's on the floor by the bed, between it and the desk, and Schuldig has no idea why. He could try browsing through Crawford's mind for what's really going on, but Crawford is the only one whose privacy he respects enough to not go prying through.<br>Softly, "Are _you_ okay?"  
>A pregnant pause, then, "Everything is fine," comes from the other side of the bed. "Tell Nagi and Nanami that I will be out in an hour or so."<p>

Schuldig shuts the door behind him and pads on back to the living room, where he acts as if nothing happened.  
>"He's weeping gently over his stock portfolio," Schuldig says with ease.<br>"Crawford-san needs to get a girlfriend," observes Tot, and Nagi gives her a _look_.  
>"The problem with that is he'd need a girl who can put up with him," says Schuldig, assuming his previous position on the couch. "And the only one who's willing to put up with his shit is me."<p>

Schuldig doesn't even try to prevent either of them from misconstruing his words.


	4. Two Turtledoves

**The Five Days of Schwarz**

**PART FOUR**

The sun rises once more, its rays peeking through the slats of the blinds in the living room. Schuldig has spent the night on the couch. Again. Not because it was his choice, or that he enjoys doing so, but because Crawford decided to lock his bedroom door. For the second night in a row.  
><em>Either he really doesn't want me to know what he got me for Christmas<em>, _or the stock portfolio's worse than he imagined. Or he's just being a bastard._

He sits up, groaning at the aches in his back, and stretches to relieve the tension in his joints. The tree is still lit, and Schuldig knows that's probably a fire hazard but he doesn't care. Standing now, he heads to the kitchen to fix himself some coffee, hoping the smell will lure Crawford out of his room and then maybe they can have a conversation or a morning fuck against the countertop or something—he isn't too picky on what happens first or where. Drumming his fingers against the countertop, the coffee taking _forever_, Schuldig heads for the shower so he can look like his usual sexy self. That and he's still covered in glitter from last night, when he found out all Christmas decorations seem to have obscene amounts of sparkle on them.

It's Christmas eve, Schuldig remembers as he turns the shower on, making the water temperature as hot as he dares, and he still has nothing to give Crawford. Well, he has _one_ thing to give Crawford, and he's not even sure he'll go through with it after all.  
><em>Should've gotten him that tie<em>, Schuldig thinks as he lathers up his hair with shampoo. _Should've played it safe. At least I know Crawford likes ties.__  
><em>He'd never in a million years play anything safe. Schuldig is about as safe as playing with matches while doused in gasoline. That's not who he is. Crawford is the one who plays everything safe, the one who happily stokes a campfire using twigs and old Boy Scout techniques; Schuldig is the one who douses the campfire in gasoline and hopes he doesn't get burned.

Rinsing out his hair and adding in some conditioner, he swears he hears the bathroom door open. It's not unusual for Crawford to come into the bathroom while it's occupied. They're both grown men, after all, and are both equipped the same way. That and they've shared living quarters for a long time now, and even bedrooms—half of Schuldig's clothes are stashed in Crawford's closet, and Crawford's toiletries are always in Schuldig's bathroom, despite Crawford having access to a private bathroom he never seems to use.

Unless, of course, Schuldig is occupying it.

"Don't use up all the hot water," comes a voice, and Schuldig recognises it instantly as Crawford's. He could be deaf and still know it was Crawford speaking to him.  
>"If you want a chance at some hot water," challenges Schuldig, "then you'll have to jump in."<br>The door closes, the lock clicks, and a minute later Schuldig feels cold air and the feeling of someone's flesh against his own.  
>"You do know you have your own bathroom, ja?"<br>Crawford places his lips against Schuldig's neck, tracing the juncture of it all the way down his shoulder before biting the skin there.  
>"Yes."<br>"So why do you always use the one I'm occupying?"

Crawford shoves Schuldig against the shower wall, fingers threaded into Schuldig's wet, soaped up hair.  
>"You just answered your own question."<br>Schuldig claws at Crawford's back, uncaring if his soapy hands make his scratches sting, just as Crawford lifts Schuldig's leg and catches Schuldig's mouth with his own.  
>"Nagi's sleeping in the next room," Schuldig says against Crawford's lips, hands exploring the slick body beneath him. "We don't want to wake him."<br>"So don't be too loud."  
>Schuldig laughs. "I don't think that's possible."<br>Crawford enters him slowly, relishing the drawn out moan Schuldig makes deep in his throat.  
>"Try."<p>

-x-

Nagi is pretty sure he hates snow. It snows in Japan, with Tokyo getting the so-called 'perfect' amount of it—enough to enjoy, but not enough to burden anyone. Usually. But here in Bavaria, there is a surplus of it, and besides, Nagi hates the cold. He turns away from the car window and towards the driver of the car.  
>"So why exactly did you want me to tag along with you?"<p>

Nagi has the hood of his jacket up, hands in his coat pockets, as Crawford drives them over the border and into Austria, pausing at the checkpoint to flash his passport before continuing onwards.  
>"Because if I brought Schuldig along, that would ruin the purpose of this excursion," answers Crawford. "I'm shopping for his Christmas present, and I have no idea what to get him."<br>Nagi plays with his seatbelt. "And I do? I don't know much about Schuldig, save for his obsession with guns, beer, and torturing the innocents in the streets."  
>"I want to get him something <em>special<em>," Crawford goes on, as if he hasn't heard Nagi at all. "Every year I get him the same thing. He's got enough guns to create an armoury the size of Lichtenstein, and he only uses _two_."  
>"So engrave one. Make it special, make it something he'll want to use."<br>"I've done that in the past as well. The first gun he ever got was one I bought him for his eighteenth birthday."  
>"And the other?"<br>"For his twenty-second birthday."

Nagi looks outside his window again. He can't seem to sit still. Then again, he's never driven alone with Crawford before, and he finds it just a little stifling and awkward.  
>"So what were you thinking of getting him that was special this year?"<br>Crawford tells Nagi his plans in a way that makes it sound like a discussion about the weather, and the telekinetic's eyes widen and his jaw drops in reply.  
>"So it's basically an en—"<br>"Please don't call it that." Crawford's fingers grip the steering wheel tighter, the knuckles tinged white.  
>"Do you think Schuldig is going to go for something like that?"<br>Crawford narrowly misses getting into a traffic accident, but only because he's a precognitive and saw it coming two lights ago. Instead, the car attempting to tailgate them gets hit and crashes into a nearby lightpole.  
>"That's the problem. I'm not sure."<p>

Nagi wants to bang his head against the window.

-x-

"Uncle Schuldig!"  
>Schuldig was not expecting to open the door and have three kids latch around his knees, nor was he expecting to be called 'Uncle Schuldig'. Then again, when you're used to living with a precognitive who can tell you what's going to happen in the next half hour or so, not knowing things makes Schuldig uneasy. Especially if they involve kids. Schuldig hates kids.<br>"You didn't tell me you were bringing the kids with you," Schuldig deadpans, unable to move. Sally giggles and cradles the infant in her arms closer to her.

"Jei is finding a parking space," explains Sally. "I would have thought that Munich was a little more..."  
>Schuldig finds the word hidden in the jumble that is her mind. "Rural. It would be save for that fact that Crawford likes to live in the heart of big cities and it's Christmas eve." He gestures inside. "I'd show you in, but I'm a little tangled up..."<br>Sally smiles apologetically and manages to usher the rest of her kids inside, freeing Schuldig in the process.

_Suddenly I remember exactly why I hate kids._

"Where's Crawford?" Sally removes her scarf, a plain white thing with fringed yarn at the ends. Obviously homemade, Schuldig figures. Probably by one of her kids or even by her herself. He doubts it's made by her mother since no one from Rosenkreuz remembers their parents or cares enough to try to find them again.  
>"He's shopping with Nagi." Schuldig leaves the door ajar so Farfarello can come in when he feels like it.<p>

"And who is this charming young lady?"  
>Tot is holding a cup of tea and staring at Sally as if she's got three heads and a pair of devil horns.<br>"That's Nagi's girlfriend, To—Nanami." Schuldig doesn't feel like making proper introductions.  
>"Who are they?" Tot asks in Japanese, gesturing to the three kids in front of the TV and the one in Sally's arms.<br>"The two red heads are Molly and Colin, the blonde is Moira, and the one in her arms is..." Schuldig can't be arsed to pull it from Sally's mind.  
>"Adrianna," Sally offers. "It's a favourite name of mine."<p>

If that's what being married and having kids does to you, Schuldig doesn't want any part of it.

_At least Farfarello still looks the same_, Schuldig muses when Farfarello finally makes his entrance, silent as always.  
>In fact, Farfarello looks exactly the same, to the point where Tot, for a reason she can't comprehend, screams at the sight of him.<p>

_Oops, forgot Farfarello was the one who stabbed and killed her__, Schuldig thinks, as if this type of thing is normal to think.__ Talk about an awkward family reunion._

-x-

"Why am I being dragged out with everyone today?" Nagi laments as Schuldig locks the door of the flat behind them. "First Crawford, now you."  
>"This is important," says Schuldig. "Crawford took you out so you could threaten our financial advisor with a floating paperweight." He ignores Nagi's look of confusion as they head to where Schuldig's Ferrari is parked. "I'm taking you out so I can get Crawford's Christmas gift finalised."<br>"'Finalised'?"  
>Schuldig slipped into the driver's seat and revved the engine, getting curious looks from girls who are probably old enough to be Nagi's schoolmates. He looks at them appreciatively, asking them in German if they'd "like to take a ride with me in my car". Nagi stiffens his collar and reluctantly gets in the passenger side, but not before a bunch of girls hand him phone numbers.<br>"Give them to him, ja?" the leader of the pack asks with a wink before leaving.

"You are despicable," says Nagi as he buckles himself in. "They're probably my age!"  
>"And how old are you again, Nagichen?"<br>"Twenty-one. They're probably eighteen _maybe_." He stares at the dashboard. "You're still despicable."  
>"You make me sound like I'm thirty-three instead of the sexy twenty-eight I am."<br>Before Schuldig shifts out of the parking space, Nagi mutters, "Crawford is thirty-three and you look at _him_ like that."  
>"It's time you learned that I like older men."<p>

Nagi's pretty sure Schuldig broke some speed limits. That is until he remembered Germany doesn't really _have_ speed limits.

-x-

It's snowing again, typical for this time of year. The streets of Munich are a soft white, save for where the snow meets the streets, where it is a dingy, ugly slush that wants to claim Schuldig's boots. Schuldig kicks at it before walking onto the pavement, Nagi behind him.

"Where exactly are we go—" Nagi stops short of the establishment Schuldig's trying to get inside. "A _jewelry store_?"

"Crawford forgot to get cuff links," Schuldig lies with ease, as he peers inside. Reading the sign, he scoffs. "'Closed for the holiday' my arse. I see people inside."

"Those are the workers—"

Schuldig manages to get the door open; Nagi sighs.

"Guten Tag, sir," says one of the workers inside. "I'm sorry, but we're closed—"

"Oh, what a shame," Schuldig says, putting on his best act. Nagi recognizes that look in his eyes, the subtle darkening of Schuldig's eyes.

"See, I was under the impression that you _were_ open…"

The man, under the influence of Schuldig's Suggestion, shows them both inside. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm here for an "Andreas Tillermann's" order. He'd like to pick it up."

Schuldig winks at Nagi, who merely sighs, as he is shown to the counter.

"You really _are_ despicable," Nagi says when they walk out of the jewelry store.

"Ja, ich weiss, Nagichen, you don't have to keep telling me this." The slush underfoot goes _squish_ as they walk back to the Ferrari.

"Is that the name Crawford uses now? 'Andreas Tillermann'?"

"No," Schuldig replies, unlocking the car. He pulls open the door and leans against it for a minute. "It's mine."

"Yours?" Nagi ducks inside the car now, scraping the slush and muck off his shoes before closing the door.

"_Ja_, Nagi." He climbs in and stares at the telekinetic. "You ask too many questions."

Suddenly, Nagi puts two and two together as Schuldig starts the car.

"Don't feel too proud of yourself," Schuldig answers in response to Nagi's thoughts. "It's not like you're the first to find out. Crawford found it first."

Nagi smirks. "And I bet he calls you awesome things like 'Andychen' in bed, doesn't he?"

Schuldig glares so hard at Nagi he hopes Nagi spontaneously combusts.

"Fuck you," is what Schuldig opts for instead of the spontaneous combustion. "For your information, Crawford calls me 'Schuldig'. He always has and he always will because he knows better."

"Is that what he says when you call him 'Brad'?" Nagi genuinely wonders. "Says 'fuck you'?"

Schuldig shifts the car into gear and nearly causes a traffic accident. He doesn't care, just flips them the bird and continues on his merry way.

"How the hell—"

"I _heard you guys_ this morning. You were all, 'Ah, Brad! Tiefer, tiefer! Fick mir hardisch!' And even though I don't understand what any of that means, I _do_ know that Crawford's name is 'Brad', and either that's a grievous slip of the tongue or—"

"Do you come with an off switch?"

"Are you—are you _blushing_?"

Schuldig stops the car short, nearly causing _another_ traffic accident, and throws another "fuck you" at Nagi.

"You've gone soft."

"You _do_ realize that I can—and will—shoot you and drive at the same time, right? And then leave your bleeding self on the side of the road."

Nagi says nothing further after that.

"Also, so help me God if you tell Crawford what I got him for Christmas, because if he doesn't shit his pants in surprise, I'm going to fucking kill you."

"Why would I say anything?"

"I have no idea. Just thought I'd throw that out there."


	5. And a Partridge in a Pear Tree

**The Five Days of Schwarz**

**Finale  
><strong>

The sun hasn't risen yet, which provides Crawford ample opportunity to place all the remaining presents under the tree, giving the little ones the impression that Santa Claus has come. Plus everyone is asleep, so Crawford doesn't have to worry about being spotted.

That is, Crawford _thought_ everyone was asleep. Upon turning on the tree, Crawford spots a very familiar red head kneeling underneath the tree in absolutely nothing. Nothing except for some red ribbon tied in some rather strategic locations. Crawford has to give Schuldig credit - he is surprised.  
>"Knew you'd be up this early." His voice is low, the look on his face suggestive, and Crawford is finding his sleep pants are way too tight.<br>"What are you doing?" Crawford whispers.  
>"Waiting for you to unwrap your present."<br>Crawford kneels down in front of Schuldig and carefully undoes the ribbon.

"You do realise I was joking when I said I wanted you for Christmas, right?"  
>Schuldig purrs. "That's not all of your present."<br>Crawford raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.  
>"The rest will come later though." Schuldig spots the small box with his name on it still in Crawford's hand. "What's that?"<br>"A Christmas present."  
>"For?"<br>Crawford sighs. He's barely gotten any sleep. "You."  
>Schuldig leans closer. "Can I open it?"<br>Crawford offers it to him. "Go ahead. It's Christmas anyway."

Schuldig gets up and sits on the couch, seemingly forgetting he's naked. Crawford sits next to him, his face a mask of calmness even though his mind is going five hundred miles a minute. There's nothing remarkable about the box, and Schuldig opens it to find some sort of jewelry box inside. In the dark, it's hard to tell what kind of jewelry piece it's made for. He pushes the lid open, and even though the light is dim, he can still make out what's inside.  
>"It's a ring." Schuldig's voice is laced with disbelief. He looks from the ring to Crawford. "You got me a <em>ring<em>."  
>Crawford takes the box and the ring from Schuldig, and after removing the ring from its casing, offers it to Schuldig.<br>"What the hell are you doing?"  
>Crawford turns the light on, the one closest to them, and moves the ring so Schuldig can see the inside of the band.<br>"Read it."

_I'm a fool_.

Schuldig blinks, realisation dawning on him. That night a few months ago, after they returned from Japan to visit Nagi...

_"I'm a fool." Crawford's well put together sentence comes out in a whisper against Schuldig's lips._

_At first, Schuldig doesn't understand what Crawford means as he pulls away from him, looks at him questioningly._

_"A fool?"_

_Crawford lies back down and waits. Waits for Schuldig to understand. He stares and his eyes seem to penetrate the darkness, and Schuldig stares back, hoping the answer will just magically appear in front of his eyes._

_And then, Schuldig laughs. It starts out slowly, like a small chuckle, and accelerates quickly to actual, wholesome laughter._

_"Brad Crawford is a fool."_

"Dear God," breathes Schuldig. "You really _are_ a fool."  
>"You have something for me as well," says Crawford. "Don't deny it."<br>Schuldig scoffs. "Okay, fine." He shoves a hastily wrapped gift into Crawford's hands. "Happy now?"  
>Crawford opens it and smiles, actually <em>smiles<em>, which freaks Schuldig out just a bit.  
>"What was it you said that night? 'Guess that means we can be fools together then'?"<br>Schuldig runs a hand through his hair. "I knew that was going to haunt me for the rest of my life. Last time I get drunk on my birthday."

Crawford kisses Schuldig, and Schuldig doesn't protest when Crawford slips the ring onto his finger before slipping Schuldig's present onto his own.

Then, of course, Schuldig turns out the light and shoves Crawford against the back of the couch.  
>"Time for part three of your present, Brad," Schuldig purrs as he deftly undoes Crawford's pants before kneeling down in between Crawford's legs.<p>

Crawford decides, as his fingers grip Schuldig's hair, that Christmas is his favourite holiday.

-x-

"Everyone stop clamouring around the tree and let Santa Crawford give out the gifts, okay?" Schuldig hasn't had enough eggnog in his system to deal with this shit, he thinks, and snuggles into the warmth of his jacket. For some reason, Nagi has to have the windows open, for he feels 'stifled'.  
><em>I'll show him stifled...<br>_Crawford glares. _Santa Crawford?  
>Shut up, the kids enjoy it.<br>_"Do me first," says Nagi. "I'm the youngest of the team."  
>Schuldig nearly snorts his eggnog.<br>"Nagi-kun," Tot scolds, "you've had too much to drink..."  
>"Aww, let the kid enjoy it for once," interrupts Schuldig, as he elbows Nagi in the side. "Oi, Brad! Give it to Nagi first."<p>

As Crawford goes about doling out presents to Nagi and Tot (and two of Farfarello's children so they'd stop shrieking like banshees), Schuldig tries to ignore the thoughts swirling around him basically all asking _did he just call Crawford 'Brad'?  
><em>Nagi rips into his present and sees the word _TOSHIBA_ staring up at him from underneath the wrapping paper. He looks like he's just won the lottery.  
>"What about Schuldig-san? Doesn't he get anything?"<br>Crawford stares at Schuldig.  
><em>Do something<em>, Schuldig says.

Crawford pulls something out of his suit jacket pocket, something wrapped in what appears to be a handkerchief. He hands it to Schuldig without a word.  
><em>Open it and pretend to be surprised.<br>_Schuldig undoes the handkerchief and behold! a shiny new Glock was in his hand, emblazoned with _110470187 - Oracle_ on the side of the barrel. Schuldig angles it so no one can see the writing on it.  
>"You know me so well, but perhaps we shouldn't shop at the same places." Schuldig reaches inside his jacket and forks over his gun to Crawford.<br>"Well, a gun _is_ practical," says Crawford, as he examines - or pretends to examine - the Desert Eagle pistol engraved with _032775089 - Schuldig_ in the same place as Crawford's.  
>"You guys need to think of something new to give to each other." Farfarello idly plays around with a custom made knife his wife bought for him, from her and the children.<br>"Jei, honey," coos Sally, "you ask for the same thing every year too."  
>"So does Nagi," remarks Schuldig. "God, we're all really that boring, aren't we?"<p>

Crawford chuckles. "It's better than an ugly sweater from Grandmother."  
>"Or that really heartfelt card from your mother," Schuldig adds. "Or a ring from your significant other."<p>

Everyone stares at Schuldig.  
>"What? Marriage is so overrated these days. Everyone does it. There's nothing special about it anymore."<br>_Smooth recovery, Schuldig.  
>Danke, Oracle. That means a lot coming from you of all people.<br>_"Who wants more eggnog?"  
>Nagi's glass is the first to be shoved in Schuldig's face.<p>

_I didn't know you were such a big drinker._

_I'm not. I just want to forget everything that happened tonight._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Thus concludes the _Five Days of Schwarz_! I hope you all have a very merry Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/winter solstice/holiday and a happy and healthy new year. See you guys in 2012!


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